Apropos of Nothing
by flamedwing
Summary: Saren Arterius will protect the galaxy, even if he must defy the Council. They've appointed a human to stop him. Shepard is determined, he'll give her that, but she won't accept the truth. Saren knows the Reapers are coming and how fighting them ends. If that trio of fools and their human Spectre want to doom the whole galaxy to extinction, they'll have to do it over his dead body.
1. The Snake in the Garden

1\. **The Snake in the Garden**

"Saren?" The inquiring voice behind him was familiar, sub-harmonics tinged with shock.

He turned. A younger turian, brown-plated with white markings, stood at the base of the steps leading up to the station platform, mandibles spread wide in surprise. Saren knew his face well.

"Nihlus," he noted. Saren stepped forward and his former student approached, lowering his assault rifle and pointing the barrel to the ground. It was an unwarranted display of trust.

Saren disapproved.

"This isn't your mission, Saren," Nihlus said, green eyes wide and earnest. "What are you doing here?" The younger turian's sub-harmonics vibrated with confusion, but no suspicion at his former mentor's unexplained presence.

Eden Prime was burning and Nihlus acted like they had just bumped into each other on the Citadel. Saren thought he trained Nihlus better than this. It was an embarrassing failure if he allowed Nihlus to become a Spectre without learning this most basic lesson.

Saren walked up to him. "The Council thought you could use some help on this one." He clapped a hand on Nihlus's shoulder.

Nihlus didn't even flinch. _He has no idea why I'm here._ Saren walked past, noting that his old trainee didn't turn around. _Too sentimental by far. I warned you, Nihlus. Trust no one._

The humans had uncovered a Prothean device, so naturally the Council would want supervision. It was an easy lie. Saren just hadn't thought they'd send a Spectre so soon. That it happened to be Nihlus was unfortunate, but ultimately changed nothing.

He couldn't let the Council find out he was here. Nihlus had to die.

"I wasn't expecting to find the geth here," Nihlus said. Saren silently drew his pistol, attaching a Shredder Rounds mod. "The situation's bad."

Saren smiled grimly at the irony of Nihlus's words.

"Don't worry." Saren turned and aimed for Nihlus's head. At this distance, he couldn't miss. "I've got it under control." Nihlus's back was still turned and Saren felt a flare of anger. _What a senseless waste of training._

The shot echoed through the valley. Saren holstered his pistol and knelt next to his former student.

Nihlus was face-down, the air thick with the smell of smoke and the metallic scent of the blood rapidly pooling around his head. A small hole in the base of his skull marked where the bullet entered. Saren knew the shredder rounds would have scattered shrapnel inside his skull, liquefying his brain on impact.

Even so, Saren rolled Nihlus over, testing his optical reflexes just to make sure the Spirits hadn't granted some miracle. His student's eyes stared blankly at the sky, his mandibles gone slack beside his jaw. _As oblivious in death as he was in life_ , Saren thought. _Idiot._ This _is the only result of trust._

Satisfied that no divine intervention had occurred, Saren nodded to himself. Based on the trajectory, the bullet would have hit the brainstem first and Nihlus wouldn't have felt or known a thing. It was as good a death as he could afford give his fool of a former student.

Saren briefly toyed with the idea of tossing the body in the nearby fire but discarded it as a waste of time.

Nihlus's plates would take too long to burn and there was no time to clean up the blood. That tell-tale blue blood would testify to his deed even if no one found the body. Trying to cover up the evidence would only draw more attention to it. No, leaving him there was the best idea. Anyone looking would figure the geth had killed him.

Besides, if he succeeded, it wouldn't matter if anyone figured out how Nihlus died.

Saren headed to the cargo train platform.

If the Council had sent Nihlus here, the Alliance would have demanded an escort accompany him. The geth had no problems with the human soldiers already stationed here, but additional troops meant possible backup if a ship was in orbit. It was a slight hitch in his plans, but nothing he couldn't account for.

He set the train to go to the spaceport. If the humans were following Nihlus, they needed to be dealt with immediately. There was no time to wait for the geth to finish the search. They would have to deploy the demolition charges, with or without the colonists.

 _New orders: All geth on ground focus on extraction and retrieval of collected colonists_ _,_ Saren typed into his Omni-tool. _Additional Alliance forces on ground._ _At least one hostile ship in orbit. Geth at spaceport; divert a contingent of forces to cargo transport. Alliance hostiles likely inbound._

The humans would probably stop to investigate Nihlus's death, buying Saren time and allowing the geth to ambush them.

Saren sent the orders, then paced the platform.

The train slid towards the spaceport, far too slowly in Saren's opinion. He stopped in front of the train's terminal and fiddled with the controls. It was already going at maximum speed. _Leave it to the humans to rely on such inefficient transport_ , Saren thought, tapping one toe impatiently. He bared his teeth in disgust. Every moment he was stuck on this freight loader, the greater the chance the humans would disrupt things further.

Saren felt the shockwaves of Sovereign's takeoff before he saw them, the sudden spike in air pressure sending a wave of smoke and debris past him. Sovereign rocketed through the atmosphere, a storm of intense, rapid-fire static discharge crackling along its surface as it rose.

 _No doubt moving to intercept should the Alliance be calling more ships to arrive_. If Sovereign found a ship in orbit, it would be scrap metal before it could send a distress call. It didn't like having a hitch in the plan, either.

The cargo train neared the spaceport. He could see the lights of the geth platforms waiting at the other end. They stood, motionless, as the train stopped at the station.

"Return to the loading platform." Saren stepped off the train and made his way to the stairs. "An unknown number of hostiles are likely on their way. Stop them by any means necessary."

The geth got on the train, including one destroyer. Saren nodded to himself. _The destroyer should prove a decent distraction._

A remaining trooper led him to a loading platform on the upper dock where the Prothean beacon had been set on the platform's edge. It was just like the one at his base on Virmire. At his arrival it started glowing verdant green, faintly at first but stronger at his approach.

As Saren marched down the ramp, two of his geth prepared to lower a transformation spike. The colonist impaled on it was nearing completion, the cybernetics' slight blue tendrils glowing under its skin.

The plan had been simple— find the colonists, spike them, get the beacon, take the transformed colonists and bomb the colony to wipe out any clues. Nice, clean, and efficient; a plan with no annoying loose ends. Now there was no time for that.

"Set the charges," Saren growled at the nearest geth. "Destroy the entire colony. Leave no evidence that we were here."

He wasted no time checking to ensure they complied.

He turned his attention to the beacon. It hummed as Saren came closer. The air around him started to distort, ripples of green energy reaching out towards him, pulling him in. They wrapped around him, jerking him up and dangling him mid-air. A wave of light hit him.

 _Red and orange. Circuits and flesh. Visceral, bleeding. Run, run! They're coming! There is no escape! The overpowering stench of rotting flesh. Suffocation. I can't breathe! The sharp tang of metal on this tongue. Fight and die! There is no escape! White-hot agony. High pitched screeching. Teeth. Grinding metal. Someone prays, kneeling, face lifted. A light in the sky, running, terror. Something screams. Despair._ Despair. **Despair.**

Saren hit the ground and stumbled to his feet. He passed some of his geth setting the charges. They needed to hurry, but he didn't have the energy to spare on barking orders. There was no time to think. A ship waited nearby and Saren started to it, half carried by one of the geth.

On the ship, he sat in the bow and took measured, deliberate breaths, counting his heart beats until they begun to slow in time with his breathing. He felt the inertial dampeners kick in as the ship left orbit.

"Benezia," Saren radioed over his comm, his voice gravelly with exhaustion. He waited for the click to indicate she was receiving. "Prepare for immediate extraction. All colonists into stasis. Keep the beacon in isolation until we reach the base."

"Understood, sir," the asari's voice came through, clear and unruffled.

Her voice was quickly swallowed by the mechanical whirr of the ship, leaving nothing but metal and the buzzing of electronics. Even the ambient noise of the geth ship sounded dead. It was unpleasant, like claws against his plates.

He leaned back on the bench. It was uncomfortable, but he was too tired to care. He shut his eyes against the visions playing in his mind. The darkness behind his eyelids only sharpened their intensity. He opened his eyes again and the visions retreated behind his sight, shadows flickering at the edges of his mind.

Saren stared straight ahead at a seam in the wall, focusing all his attention on studying it. As long as he kept focus, the visions couldn't intrude, couldn't interfere with his ability to act.

He just had to keep his mind on the task.

* * *

Sovereign, as usual, numbed things. Sovereign was alive, abuzz with constant sound. It pounded with relentless energy, like a massive heartbeat. It was something the geth could never hope to match.

Benezia met him in the dock as he stepped off the geth ship. Other ships were arriving, the geth unloading transformed colonists and transformation spikes. Saren ignored them and strode purposefully toward Benezia.

"Saren," she greeted him, dipping her blue head gracefully.

"There is a ship in orbit," Saren demanded. "What is it?"

"We are still looking into it, sir." Benezia frowned. "There _was_ a ship in orbit. It appears to have vanished. We are looking for it and I will let you know when there is an update on the situation."

"Good." Saren turned to go, then paused, looking over his shoulder. "I trust you are capable of dealing with this?"

"Of course," she said, with a touch of pride.

 _Good,_ he felt like saying, _because I don't feel like dealing with you right now._ Instead, he nodded and walked off.

* * *

Deep within Sovereign, the omnipresent thrum was enough to override the visions. The halls and passages within Sovereign met at strange angles but here, in the silent dark, Saren didn't have to look at them. He didn't have to look at anything.

No unblinking green eyes stared back at him from the shadows. No Protheans screamed, bled and died in these halls.

Saren set the datapad aside.

Jacobus had sent him an update prior to landing on Eden Prime about the quarians he found poking around their excavation site on Acaeria. They'd managed to escape to the Citadel. He hadn't received further updates from Jacobus, so it was safe to assume he had failed.

Saren wasn't worried about it; he had plenty of contacts on the Citadel who could take care of them. He'd already sent a message to them to be on the lookout. He doubted the quarians were any kind of threat, but it paid to be prepared.

His thoughts turned to Nihlus. _How many times did I tell him not to trust anyone but himself?_ Saren shook his head, putting one hand to his face. _For the right price, you can buy anyone. You simply need to know their currency_.

Nihlus had always been unreasonable that way. It was why he never fit in the military, why his superiors had rejected him. Saren thought he would grow out of it with time. Nihlus had been resourceful, intelligent and surprisingly cunning. A truly promising candidate who became a good Spectre. But he was too stupid with his emotions.

The mission came first. It _always_ came first. He'd taught Nihlus that and he thought Nihlus had understood it. The shrapnel in his skull and that stupid, earnest look still plastered on his face in death suggested he had not.

He put his emotions ahead of his mission. Saren hadn't. And that's why Nihlus was dead.

He could see now that he'd miscalculated when he approved Nihlus as a Spectre. He was paying for that mistake now, with his own hand rendering all the time spent training the fool wasted.

Saren hated wasting time.

He heard Benezia down the hall, the swish of her dress loud in the silent corridor.

She was another naïve one. The asari thought she fooled him, that he didn't know her plan. Saren could _smell_ her self-righteousness. Her self-satisfied aura of moral superiority was so profound that even an absolute moron could guess her motives. Everyone knew Benezia was a philosopher and theology teacher, but as a Matriarch she was powerful, as were her commando followers. Sovereign would make sure they were useful.

Benezia stopped a respectful distance away and cleared her throat. Saren waited silently.

"We identified the ship that touched down on Eden Prime," she said. "The _Normandy_. A human Alliance vessel." Saren didn't move. "It was under the command of Captain Anderson." Saren felt his temper rising. _Anderson_. "They managed to save the colony."

"And the beacon?"

Benezia hesitated and the scent of fear rolled off her in waves, kicking Saren's primal predatory instincts into overdrive. His heart began to pound, spurred on by her terror. "One of the humans may have used it."

Saren leaned forward, digging his talons into the arms of the chair. _Anderson!_ He snarled, baring his teeth. _The human idiot._

He lunged to his feet, growling as Sovereign pulsed with rage. _And they used the beacon?_

 _I give them_ one _simple task ..._ Saren lashed out, tossing the table next to him and sending the datapad flying. He paced, wanting to rend and tear, feel the blood on his claws. _I will not tolerate such incompetence!_

Benezia shifted nervously, the scent of her fear growing stronger.

Saren's heart raced in anticipation of the kill. She was _weak_ , stupid flesh.

Her eyes widened as he turned to her. He would take her eyes first, blind her so she couldn't fight back. She froze, too shocked to pull away as he stormed over, snarling. He seized her head, thumb talons pointed inward.

Sovereign sent a warning pulse and he caught himself. Benezia's skin blanched a slightly lighter shade of blue than normal, also feeling the razor edge of pain Sovereign was promising. Saren forced down his impulse to finish her. He let go and pulled himself reluctantly away, talons clenching in frustrated desire.

"This human must be _eliminated,_ " he growled, sub-harmonics thick with unfulfilled rage.

Saren stalked off, leaving her standing in dumb disbelief. His ancient impulses railed against letting her go, but the asari was too valuable an asset to waste in anger.

He'd have to turn his fury to something more constructive, like learning how Anderson got involved. The explosion on Camala should have killed him. Even all these years later, Saren still didn't know how that plateless bastard made it out alive, but perhaps he would get a chance to correct that. If their paths crossed again, he would make sure _this_ time the fool didn't make it out alive.

* * *

 **A.N.:** This is something of a companion piece to my other fic, _Unsettled_ , but it can stand alone. I'd like to think they enhance each other, though. I generally don't bother much with the idea of "trigger warnings" but obviously, since Saren is the viewpoint character of the fic, there's going to be lots of potentially disturbing stuff. Canonically, Saren tortures, murders, and subjects people to indoctrination until they're completely mentally destroyed. If you're not comfortable reading about those kinds of things, this fic isn't for you.

After looking through the fics on this site about Saren, I was a bit disappointed. There were few fics with Saren as the main character, and of those few, the majority were Saren/Nihlus. Everyone has their own tastes but I have to say, Saren/Nihlus is a pairing that I personally find extremely bizarre. I just don't see the appeal of pairing a murder victim with their murderer. This is obviously not a Saren/Nihlus story.

Saren is such an interesting character (even if he is a horrible person). I've said previously how I thought Saren was under-utilized. Well, since there is a lack of good Saren fics, I'm following the advice of 'write what you'd like to read.' Plus I'd like to address the many questions I had about Saren and what he was up to during ME1. I intend to follow canon as much as possible. On a related note, I'm a canon inclusivist, meaning that I accept the semi-canon background stuff (like Tali's _Homeworlds_ comic) so long as it doesn't contradict the canon. For this fic ME1 is the canon, and any comics or books are semi-canon. Since I haven't read all the comics, details about the things that happen in them will be somewhat sketchy and only added when necessary.

Admittedly, my plan is a bit ambitious. This fic will definitely be longer than _Unsettled_. That's why I've sought the help of a beta to make sure I don't screw it up.

This chapter is cross-posted to deviantart, so if you see it there, it's me.


	2. Trials and Tribulations

2\. **Trials and Tribulations**

Saren folded his arms, watching his so-called 'trial' with contempt from the holographic dais. The formal back and forth between the councilors and human ambassador held no interest for him, yet he had no choice but to stand there and listen to their bickering while his geth sat in the middle of Alliance space.

He fought the urge to snarl at this insult. After hastily setting up a real-time connection to answer the summons, tweaking his hologram to hide his recently acquired cybernetics, he had to _wait_ for his accusers to arrive. Credits were flowing by while they piddled. The monetary cost was ultimately insignificant, but their arrogance was galling. He hoped the Council would force the humans to recompense him for every credit they wasted.

He glanced over as a turian entered the Chambers. _C-Sec Executor, Venari Pallin_.

Pallin shot an annoyed look in his direction as he climbed the stairs, but otherwise ignored him.

Saren watched him silently, a faint sneer on his face. Pallin was a fool, too bound by his rules and procedures to do any good. They'd had plenty of clashes over the years and Pallin was no doubt savoring the chance to give the Council his 'I told you so.' He would be presenting C-Sec's 'findings' to the Council— not that they would have anything, of course. The idea was laughable, though Saren was in no laughing mood.

As Pallin left, the human ambassador glared at the turian councilor, Sparatus. The human's squinty eyes narrowed and thin lips bunched in a scowl.

Saren mostly ignored politics as it was a waste of time and beneath him. While the politicians postured, he kept the galaxy safe. The politicians squawked and huffed about his methods, but in the end they begged him to fix their problems every time.

He studied the human with revulsion, though he kept the emotion concealed. _Udina_ , the asari councilor had called him.

Bacteria-laced water poured from his disgustingly spongy flesh, his dark face slick with it. Large, wet spots stained the underarms of his beige suit.

Saren's nostrils contracted as he imagined the human's stink. They were vile creatures, and this one was a particularly ugly example of his species: short, balding, and loud-mouthed. Like all of his kind, he screamed and whined when he didn't get his way and puffed himself up when he had the rare advantage.

There was no mistaking the conceit of this petty, little man. He would be easy enough to nettle, should Saren feel the need.

Not that Saren expected to _need_ much of anything. This trial was merely an appeasement, pretending to take the humans seriously.

He'd accessed and read Nihlus's files first off, familiarizing himself with the mission. Then he'd read the humans' report. There was nothing in them to prove he attacked the colony. It would be easy to claim Anderson fabricated their little, circumstantial evidence to cover his team's failure and try to get payback against him. They wouldn't know about the quarian. Fist would take care of her shortly. He'd paid the greedy human well and Fist knew Saren didn't tolerate failure.

The Council wouldn't want to find him guilty, in any case. Sparatus shared his opinion of the humans. He would want to dismiss them from the start. The turian councilor was Saren's most natural ally in this trial, regardless of their prior disagreements. That left the asari and salarian.

The asari in particular liked to play mediator. Out of all the councilors, Tevos was the one most likely to put on a show. This was undoubtedly her idea, a way to score political points with the humans by pretending to hear them out. Valern, the curious little lizard, would go along with it just to see what the humans would do.

Saren scowled. They had still granted the humans a trial on the word of a human woman.

If he hadn't killed Nihlus, he'd be obliged to do so now. He'd been aware of Nihlus's troubling xenophilic tendencies, but to recommend a _human_ for the Spectres? And of all the humans in the Alliance, he asked Anderson to help decide the candidate.

Saren grit his teeth at the thought of the dark-skinned human.

Anderson was an idealistic moron. It was just like him to go screaming to the Council without any proof. He hadn't learned his lesson yet, but that was hardly surprising. That he managed to make Captain only spoke of how incompetent the humans truly were. Saren was going to enjoy humiliating him before the Council once again. And if Anderson helped choose the would-be human Spectre, she would be just as much of a fool as he was.

As if summoned, Anderson entered the Chambers with a human female in tow.

Anderson was of no interest to Saren. A quick glance confirmed what he already knew; Anderson was older, wearing the Alliance navy and gold officer's uniform, but still the same.

The female from Nihlus's files was of more interest. Staff Commander Aleta Shepard. Two other humans, a male and female, lagged behind. They were obviously trivial. Saren dismissed them and refocused on the human Commander.

His cybernetics let him study her in detail, even through the hologram. She was shorter than Anderson, slight even in full body armor. Her skin was lighter than Anderson's or Udina's, a sandy tan compared to Anderson's brick-brown or Udina's dull dirt. Black hair hung around her face, a dark wave tucked behind her right ear. Unlike other human females Saren had seen, her face and fleshy lips were unpainted, though the upper lids of her eyes were painted a pale purple. A small scar dashed her cheek, beneath her left eye.

 _This is the human Nihlus selected for Spectre candidacy?_ Saren shook his head. He'd apparently overestimated Nihlus's intelligence. She was tiny and frail. A particularly strong wind might snap her in half. This weak, insipid creature was not Spectre material. She was obviously prey, not predator.

Anderson must have noticed the movement and looked up, brown eyes pinched with anger.

The female followed his gaze to him, her large, glassy eyes a shockingly bright green. Her eyes narrowed as recognition dawned. She took the podium, lips tight.

 _Yes. You_ stay _angry, human,_ Saren thought. _Your kind is even more stupid when angry._

"The geth attack is a matter of some concern." Tevos ignored the other humans' entry, focused on the human ambassador. "But there is nothing to indicate Saren was involved in any way."

Sparatus looked over at her, his dark, white-marked face expressionless, then back at Udina. "The investigation by Citadel Security turned up no evidence to support your charge of treason," he added.

Udina glared. "An eyewitness saw him kill Nihlus in cold blood!"

"We've read the Eden Prime reports, _Ambassador_ ," Valern said, the salarian's pale under lids rapidly flicking over his black, liquid eyes in distaste. "The testimony of one traumatized _dockworker_ is hardly compelling proof."

Political maneuvering was a game Saren found distasteful but he had to play his part.

"I resent these accusations," Saren growled, looking to the Council. "Nihlus was a fellow Spectre. And a friend."

Anderson glared up at him. "That just let you catch him off-guard!"

 _Anderson, always impulsive, never seeing the obvious trap before him._ Saren glanced down as if he had just now noticed the human.

"Captain Anderson." Saren measured his affect to just the right degree of condescension needed to goad the human. "You always seem to be involved when humanity makes false charges against me." He looked at the female, assessing her vulnerabilities. "And this must be your protégé, Commander Shepard." He locked eyes with her. "The one who let the beacon get destroyed."

Saren folded his arms, watching her. _Your move, human_.

"The mission to Eden Prime was top secret." She met his eyes with a level glare of her own. "The only way you could know about the beacon was if you were _there!"_

Saren processed this. She didn't try to evade. _Egotism, perhaps._ Where Anderson would have gotten defensive and tried to shift the blame, she tried to turn his statement back on him. It was a crude attempt, easily blocked, but didn't give him much to work with.

"With Nihlus gone, his files passed on to me." He decided to attack her pride, see what she did. "I read the Eden Prime report. I was unimpressed." He looked to the Council but kept her in his peripheral vision. "But what can you expect from a _human_?"

Instead of arguing with him, Shepard turned to them as well. "Saren despises humanity," she said. "That's why he attacked Eden Prime."

She met each Councilor's eyes in turn.

 _An interesting approach._ She was trying to side step him, pretending to be too moral for personal attacks so he would appear unreasonable in comparison. It was well played, but futile. He only had to incite _one_ of them to anger.

"Your species needs to learn its place, Shepard. You're not ready to join the Council. You're not even ready to join the Spectres," he said, sub-harmonics growling with mockery.

Her jaw clenched. _A reaction at last._ He filed it away to consider later. It was still not enough to discredit her.

"He has no right to say that," the human ambassador snarled. "That's _not_ his decision!"

Councilor Tevos sent him a warning look, turning her exasperated blue face towards the hologram. "Shepard's admission into the Spectres is not the purpose of this meeting."

"This meeting has no purpose." Saren looked down at her. "The humans are wasting your time, Councilor. And mine."

"Saren's hiding behind his position as a Spectre," Shepard said. "You need to open your eyes!"

"What we _need_ ," Valern interjected, "is evidence. So far, we've seen nothing."

"There's still one outstanding issue." Anderson glanced over at Shepard. "Commander Shepard's vision." He looked back at the Council, missing the little wince the female gave. "It may have been triggered by the beacon."

Saren felt a stab of satisfaction. Leave it to Anderson to hand him the perfect weapon, in addition to confirming to the Council that _she_ destroyed the beacon.

"Are we allowing _dreams_ into evidence now?" Saren turned to the Council, sub-harmonics broadcasting his disgust. "How can I defend my innocence against _this_ ," he tossed his arm at the humans, "kind of testimony?"

"I agree." Sparatus's sub-harmonics mirrored Saren's own. "Our judgment must be based on facts and evidence, not wild imaginings and reckless speculation."

Councilor Valern looked to him, and then back at the Commander. "Do you have anything else to add, Commander Shepard?"

"You've made your decision." She lowered her head. She knew they were beat, that Anderson had decimated any slim hope of success. "I won't waste my breath."

Sparatus shook his head at Tevos. Tevos nodded. Saren felt a surge of victory, savoring the looks on the humans' faces as they realized their defeat.

Consensus reached, Tevos addressed the humans. "The Council has found no evidence of any connection between Saren and the geth. Ambassador, your petition to have him disbarred from the Spectres is denied."

"I'm glad to see justice was served," Saren said, not bothering to hide the rumble of smug satisfaction as he looked at the humans.

Shepard glared as he cut the link, angry green eyes promising that it wasn't over.

Saren stepped away from the holographic projector, musing on those defiant eyes. Anderson had unwittingly confirmed Benezia's report. Shepard had seen the visions. There was a significant possibility she knew what was at stake. If so, he highly doubted the Council's blindness would prevent her from trying to stop him.

 _Not that she_ can _stop me_ , Saren thought. There was nothing to prove he had been on Eden Prime. _Nothing but a dockworker,_ Saren thought, snarling that his geth missed him. He was easily silenced, in any event.

The quarian could have circumstantial evidence, if she could somehow tie the mercenaries he'd left with the geth to him. He doubted it, and doubted even more that the Council would listen to a quarian, but he wanted to see what "evidence" she claimed to have.

Shepard was a different sort of problem. As a Spectre, he was out of her reach. While she fumbled around, he already had plans in motion. She was nothing but a nuisance, but it was better to tie up loose ends. Sovereign murmured its approval in the back of his mind.

Saren flared his mandibles in a humorless grin as he activated his Omni-tool. There were some old contacts he needed to talk to.

* * *

Once he'd finished giving his orders, Saren walked to the bridge of the ship, strapping his weapons on as he walked. Not that "bridge" was a particularly apt name. On a geth ship, there was no need for a bridge or a pilot.

Shiala, one of Benezia's asari followers, was already sitting on the bench installed in the ship's bow, her skin a dull lavender in the dim light. She glanced up, green eyes quickly dropping when she recognized him.

Benezia had vouched for her empathetic ability to touch minds specifically, but that wasn't why Saren had chosen her for this mission.

It wasn't out of any special recognition of her skill. Skilled as she may be, she was disposable. They all were. But this particular acolyte of Benezia's seemed hesitant. While she succumbed to the indoctrination as well as any of the others, she sometimes balked at receiving certain kinds of orders.

That would not do.

"How long to arrival?" he asked with a menacing rumble.

He stopped beside her, forcing her to look up at him. He trained his cybernetic eyes on hers. She flinched, though she tried to cover it by standing and heading to an interface panel.

Saren watched her. He knew well the impact the cold, mechanical look his implants had on others. Organics instinctively feared things they couldn't understand. Fear was a potent weapon, one he was skilled in using.

The asari hastily checked their progress on a geth terminal. Normally geth ships didn't have those, either. Geth ship design valued functionality above all else. Their ships were all metal and angles, lacking any sort of organic nod to aesthetics or comfort. These few conveniences were only installed so Saren could integrate with their systems.

Shiala tapped a few commands into the terminal. "An hour out, sir."

"Good." He leaned in the doorway to block her exit. "Resume course for the Theseus system. Divert a contingent of geth to deal with the Alliance's probes."

He watched her enter his orders. The asari wasn't going anywhere. He suppressed a smirk as she turned and found the entrance blocked, her eyes widening slightly.

He waited for her to sit. "What did Benezia tell you about this world we're going to?"

"Not much," the acolyte admitted, avoiding his eyes. Saren briefly wondered if it was unpleasant for an asari to look into eyes they couldn't read. "It's a human colony on a former Prothean world."

"Anything else?"

He moved away from the door and braced himself against the bulkhead across from her, casually poised but able to move quickly if she tried to escape. She wouldn't try, of course, but she would know he could stop her if she did. It was the feeling of entrapment that mattered, not the physical reality.

"I've heard it was funded by a company you are invested in." She kept her eyes focused downward. "ExoGeni Corporation, if I recall correctly. A human firm that specializes in ancient technology."

 _She's trying to escape me_ , Saren thought with amusement. _Now, now. I can't allow that, now can I?_

"A good start," he purred. "But you've missed some important information. I'll need you to pay attention."

She swallowed, then looked up and nodded. "I'm listening, sir."

Saren nodded. _Now to force her into a corner._

He locked eyes with her. "Excellent," he said with a soft, comforting hum. "ExoGeni's Feros branch has discovered something interesting. A life form called the Thorian. Their tests show it has existed since at least the time of the Protheans, if not before. You know what that means."

The asari's eyes widened. "It would understand the beacons."

Saren flared his mandibles slightly, the rods on his face limiting his facial movements. She would know it wasn't a display of genuine happiness.

"Yes." He quickly pushed himself off the wall, startling her. "It would. And it would know about the Reapers."

The corner of Shiala's mouth twitched down, a sign of worry in the asari.

 _I've got you_ , Saren thought with hint of smugness. _She's taken the bait. Now for the kill._

"This Thorian seems to have some form of mind-control." Saren moved to the bench and stood over her, well inside her personal boundaries. "The humans on the planet are protecting it. They will know where it is, and we must find out."

He left the statement hanging and he sat next to her.

The asari's lips compressed, a signal of distress in their species. She knew his reputation. _And there it is, that hesitation._ She didn't like the idea of hurting the humans. _But that's just too bad, isn't it?_

"Benezia said you were the most capable of empathic bonds and assured me _you_ were the best choice. The information you may hold will be critical to unlocking the beacon's message." She looked over and he pinned her with his gaze. "Once we're on the planet, there's no turning back. The success of the mission depends entirely on you. I need to _know_ ," he said, sub-harmonics grating, "that you are capable of doing this before we land."

"If the Matriarch recommended me, I will do my best to meet her expectations." The asari's lips trembled. "I promise not to let you down, sir."

"I'll hold you to that, Shiala." He patted her shoulder, a reward for her obedience. "I'm sure Benezia will be proud." Saren leaned back in his seat. "Now, you should go ensure you're ready. Meet me here when you're done."

The asari stood and dipped her head. "Yes, sir."

Saren didn't watch her leave the room. He had planted the seed of responsibility in her. The asari was weak willed. If she tried to resist later, he would use it.

Instead, he turned his attention to his Omni-tool, pulling up the files he'd gleaned from ExoGeni.

The asari hadn't been too far off. ExoGeni was a human firm, but well known for research in Prothean technology. Saren had invested in them, scouring their reports for information on the Protheans.

When the Feros branch discovered a 'mind-controlling plant' under Zhu's Hope, his interest was piqued. The reports stated that this Thorian had infected most of the Zhu's Hope colonists. Saren had thought it sounded curiously similar to Sovereign's indoctrination and decided to investigate a little more.

His prudence paid off; an ExoGeni scientist had conducted radiocarbon tests on one of the larger nodes the Feros team found. This scientist suggested the Thorian was older than the Protheans. Saren knew Feros was a former Prothean colony. If these scientists were right, this Thorian may have had Prothean thralls at one time. If so, it could have knowledge about the beacons. If not, it may still know of the Reapers.

Sovereign would not allow such a thing to live, regardless of what it knew. This was his only chance to learn its secrets. And the asari would hold the key.

* * *

 **A.N.:** Second chapter up. Reviews always welcome!

The first few times I played through ME, I wondered how Shiala found Saren to be charismatic. From what we had seen of him, 'charismatic' was not one of the words I would have used to describe him. It had to be indoctrination, I thought. But then I started thinking. Based on what we know about Saren, he's ruthless, pragmatic and willing to do whatever it takes to complete the mission. With that in mind, it's not hard to imagine that after 24 years of Spectre experience he has plenty of experience manipulating people to get what he wants. I just hope I portrayed it well enough.

Next chapter gets pretty violent, so just a heads up to anyone who gets squeamish with that sort of thing.

Edit: tweaked a bit of Saren's dialogue to emphasize his sub-harmonic signals. On an unrelated note, there aren't too many synonyms for 'rumble'.


	3. The Key

3\. **The Key**

"Where is the Thorian?" Saren loomed over the human man, pistol in hand. He growled, sub-harmonics promising pain if the answer was not forthcoming.

The human shivering on the ground before him was trying Saren's patience. The man had come into the tunnels, muttering to himself about a generator on the fritz again. Saren had ambushed him, knocking him unconscious with a blow to the head, and dragged him deeper into Feros's underground. He'd found a place where the other humans from the Zhu's Hope colony wouldn't hear him scream and waited for the human to wake up.

And of course the first thing the human had done on waking was vomit on himself. Saren suspected the human had a rather severe concussion, but that didn't matter. The human wasn't going to live through this. Saren only needed him to find the Thorian.

The stench of vomit, blood and mildew of the underground tunnels irritated Saren's nose. He was tired of waiting. The human's stringy, brown hair was matted with partially-dried blood and one eye was swollen shut, but he was still refusing to talk. Saren was tempted to just kill him and find another human.

 _Perhaps a female would be more cooperative,_ Saren thought, casually examining the pistol.

"I already told you," the human whined, wiping vomit from his chin. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

Saren sighed. It would take too long to wait for another human to come by and going into the colony would probably alert the humans to their presence. With just him and the asari, he wasn't ready to risk an outright fight just yet. _I guess I'm stuck with this one, then_.

He shot the man in the kneecap.

The human screamed.

"If you won't talk," Saren said, voice low and foreboding, "I have other ways of finding out, _human_."

The human choked, sputtering sobs wracking his body as he held his bleeding knee.

Saren holstered the pistol and advanced slowly toward the man.

"Please," the human howled. "I'm just a maintenance guy!" He crawled away, leaving a red trail on the grimy duracrete. "I don't know anything, I swear!"

Like any wounded prey, he instinctively retreated from the turian until he met the far wall.

Saren grabbed him by the hair. The human threw a weak, disoriented punch, missing his target by a wide margin. Saren swatted his fist away and smashed his head against the wall hard enough to daze him.

He shoved the man face-first into the wall, drawing a whimper. Saren grabbed the human's wrists and braced a knee in his lower back, pulling until he felt the shoulder joints dislocate. Ignoring the human's screams, he hooked his arm behind the human's and lifted him none too gently, one hand twined in the human's greasy hair.

The human flailed his good leg, trying desperately to kick at him. Saren shook him hard, jostling his dislocated shoulders and the human went limp from pain.

Saren turned. "Shiala."

The asari hung back timidly in the shadows, watching from the entrance.

"Find out what he knows."

The asari took a step forward, green eyes downcast.

The human struggled weakly. "No! Please, I- I don't know anything!"

Saren tightened his grip and the human started crying. _Pathetic._ He jerked the human's head back.

The asari, Shiala, stepped toward him. "If you stop fighting," she told the human, gently cupping his chin so she could look in his good eye, "this will hurt less."

"No, no," the human whispered piteously. His body went rigid as Shiala's eyes blackened, then went slack as she entered his mind.

Saren watched Shiala explore his mind, her lips compressed tightly. The human twitched every so often, but was mostly still. After a moment, Shiala stepped back from him, outside the human's kicking range.

"I felt it." Shiala's irises turned green again. "The Thorian is inside his mind."

Saren looked thoughtful, ignoring the pained gasps of the human as he thrashed. "Can you communicate with it?"

Shiala looked uncertain. "It is ... difficult to explain. I can feel it there, but it is not. If I am to communicate, I cannot use him." Shiala nodded to the human. "The link is one way. I cannot access its mind through his. I must contact it directly."

"Can you find it?"

"Yes," Shiala said. "I was able to extract its location from his mind."

He _knew_ the human had been lying.

Saren snapped the human's fragile neck with a vicious twist. He dropped the body in distaste. _How did they manage to survive when such a vital structure was so profoundly weak?_ He wiped his bloody hands on the human's clothes.

He stepped over the body. "Lead the way," he said calmly. He didn't miss the flicker of regret on the asari's face when she glanced at the dead human, but she turned and led him out of the room quickly enough.

* * *

It was nearly dusk on Feros's surface, bathing the colony in an eerie orange glow.

Zhu's Hope was little more than a motley collection of pre-fabs, crammed between the Prothean skyscrapers that dotted the ruins. Most of the humans lived in the nearest tower, so there weren't any hanging around when Shiala led them out of the tunnels.

They headed toward the port.

Saren could hear talking. He put his hand on Shiala's shoulder. She look looked back at him, a question on her lips. Saren gave her a hard look and gestured at her to be silent.

Moving under cover, he peered around the edge of the stairs. On the platform above him were two humans, both female.

"Come on, May," one said. "You know how Daniel is. He's a lazy bastard, not an idiot. He's probably still looking for that intact power core he swears he saw the other day."

"Yeah, but I still don't like it," the other, presumably May, said. "Davin said there's wild varren down there. If he's not back in an hour, I'm going to organize a search party."

She turned and walked off.

The other human huffed. "You're overreacting, you know," she called out. "When he gets back, I'm going to tell him how you freaked out."

"Fine!" The voice echoed as it reached him from below. Saren assumed the other human was far away.

He craned around and saw the other woman's back. He drew his pistol and gestured at Shiala to remain in cover. _Wait until you are called._

She nodded in understanding.

Saren made his way silently up the stairs.

"I can't believe it." The woman tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Like the damn generator couldn't wait 'til morning. Why do I always get stuck babysitting?"

Saren clamped a hand over her mouth and pressed the muzzle into her temple.

"If you try to scream, I'll pull the trigger," Saren said in a low voice.

The human went still.

He pressed the gun a little harder into her skin. "Nod if you understand."

The human gave a slight nod.

"Good." He turned his head slightly, over to the stairwell. "Shiala, come here," he called, keeping his voice down but loud enough for the asari to hear.

Shiala climbed the stairs. She stopped at the top, waiting for direction.

"Now," he said to the human, "if you don't want to end up like your friend - Daniel, was it?"

She stiffened.

"If you don't want to end up like Daniel, you will do what I tell you." Saren looked at Shiala.

"The entrance is this way," she said, gesturing.

He nodded and the asari retook the lead. Saren kept his hand over the human's mouth. "Start walking," he said, giving her a little push.

She started walking, keeping pace with him as best she could. _I knew a female would be more cooperative._

Shiala led them to a plateau near the spaceport. It was deserted, so Shiala led them quickly to another set of tunnels.

Once inside, Saren let go of the human. "Keep walking," he said, touching the gun to the back of her head.

"Please." She lifted her hands. "Just tell me what you want."

"You can't give me what I want, human," Saren said, growling deep in his chest as he pulled his pistol back. It was an unmistakable warning and she flinched. He doubted she would try to run now, but if she did, he didn't want blood all over his gun.

"Then _why_?" Her voice increased in pitch, drawing out into a whine. "Why are you doing this? What did we ever do to you?"

"You're here as leverage," Saren growled, not bothering to conceal the disdain his sub-harmonics broadcast. "As for _why_ , human, you can't understand." Saren knew there was a good chance this Thorian might be listening in, though, so he decided to set the stakes. "Here's what you need to know— if I don't get what I want, you die. If I still don't get what I want, your friends die. And if I don't get it then, I'll kill everyone on this planet, one by one, until I do."

The human fell quiet and they walked in silence, spiraling ever downwards in the dark damp of the tunnels.

About the third flight down, Saren grimaced as he started to smell something unpleasant. The smell grew stronger as they descended, a putrid, fetid rot. It grew almost intolerable by the time they reached the bottom, the stench managing to burn Saren's nose.

The human doubled over and turned her head towards him, eyes watering, and started to retch.

"Breathe through your mouth." Saren nudged her with the pistol. He'd seen enough human vomit for one day.

"This way," the asari called from further ahead. "I ... I think I've found it."

"Get moving," he said to the human.

She stumbled back to her feet, feeling along the wall.

The hallway opened into a large, circular room. In the middle was a large _thing_.

The reports said it was some kind of plant. In Saren's opinion, the thing looked absolutely nothing like a plant. The bulk of it hung suspended from the upper levels. Tentacle-like protrusions hung from its base. They twitched as Saren approached, leading the human.

The female fell to her knees in front of it, shivering.

The asari walked up alongside of him, looking up at the beast-plant. "This is the Thorian? I wonder if it can understand us, if it even knows we are here."

"Of course it does," the human choked out.

"Can you talk to it?" Saren asked the human sharply.

"No." The human huddled down, holding herself. "But I don't have to. It understands you because I understand you."

Saren looked up at the thing. "Good." He lifted his pistol, pointing it at the human's head. "My name is Saren. You have something I want. If you give it to me, I can give you something in return. If you don't give me what I want, this colony will die."

The human shivered, harder than before. "It doesn't like being threatened."

He tipped his head in a show of understanding. "Of course not," Saren said, sub-harmonics vibrating with false reassurance. "But the fact remains that if I don't get what I want, there will be consequences. I have a ship waiting in orbit. If I don't return, my troops have orders to exterminate the colony. Hopefully we can come to an agreement where we both get what we want."

"Why did you kill Daniel?" The human gasped. "It doesn't believe you."

"I killed the human because he refused to cooperate. I had a feeling you weren't letting him talk," he said to the plant. "I had to show you that I was serious, that I will not hesitate to kill all of your thralls if you force my hand. But if you cooperate, I have no reason to care if you keep them. In fact, I have good reason to want you to have more human thralls."

The human rubbed her arms. "It's listening."

Saren calmly holstered his pistol as a show of good faith. _Not that I actually need it to kill the human to begin with,_ Saren thought. It was an empty gesture, but the plant wouldn't know that.

"There was once a species called Protheans on this colony. I know you would have taken some of them as thralls. I need information about them."

He gestured to the asari, who stepped forward.

The creature flicked its tentacles at her.

"Shiala is capable of creating a mental link, able to share memories with you. Allow her to access your memories of the Protheans. In return, I will send you a significant portion of my troops. There are many, as many as you could want. Perhaps they can even transport you to Earth, homeworld of the humans. Is this not a fair exchange?"

The creature twitched. It was silent for a while.

The human stood, head bowed. "The Thorian accepts your offer." She walked to Shiala. "This way."

The human positioned Shiala in front of the creature, then retreated until she reached the wall. She closed her eyes and slid down the wall until she sat on the floor, still holding her arms to her body.

The Thorian laid its tentacles on Shiala.

Saren watched her make the link with the plant. The asari knew nothing of his true plans. The plant would have no reason to suspect anything different.

After a few minutes, the Thorian released Shiala.

She stepped back, shaking.

"Do you have it?" Saren asked her.

Shiala turned around, her eyes still black. "Yes, we hold the Cipher," she replied, though her voice was slightly off. Saren realized she was still in link with the plant. _Interesting._

"Good. Let me see it," Saren replied, pretending he didn't understand he was talking to the Thorian as well.

"The Old Growth demands more," Shiala-Thorian said.

"Like what?" Saren feigned surprise, his sub-harmonics giving a low trill. "I thought we had a deal."

"This meat knows your troops are cold ones," Shiala-Thorian replied. "The Old Growth has no use for metal."

"In that case," Saren said, gesturing benevolently, "you might be more interested in the colonists we recovered from Eden Prime."

Shiala-Thorian seemed to process this, checking Shiala's mind for details about the raid on Eden Prime. She would know it was a human colony and that Saren had been there to recover the beacon. The other details of the attack weren't common knowledge.

"The Thorian demands to know more," Shiala-Thorian said in her newly strange voice.

Saren suppressed a smirk.

"Of course." He gave a brisk, business-like nod. "Eden Prime is a human colony. I went there for the Prothean beacon and had my troops collect the colonists. I intended to use them, but I could barter them instead if you prefer."

Again Shiala-Thorian fell silent as they exchanged information. "You do not have your thralls with you. Only cold ones."

"That's true," Saren said slowly. He'd let it think it had caught him in a lie. "If I had known your preference for organics, I would have brought them." Saren sighed as though he were disappointed and tilted his head. "We have reached an impasse, then. Unfortunately, if I do not return to my ship before sundown, my troops will begin the execution order."

"If your cold ones attack," it said, "you will die."

"Perhaps," Saren said, nonchalantly. "But so will you. My troops already know of you. Your organic thralls are no match for them. Once they eliminate your thralls, they will come for you." Saren smiled viciously. "And you cannot control metal, can you? There would be nothing to stop them from destroying you completely."

Shiala-Thorian fell silent.

After a moment, Saren gestured magnanimously. "Of course, there may still be a way."

It tilted its head in mimicry of his earlier action.

"The asari, Shiala. Unlike the colonists, the asari is crucial to my mission. I can find more flesh to experiment on, but I need the asari's skills." Saren gestured at her. "Give me the Cipher. You can keep the asari with you as leverage. I will return to my ship and stay the execution order. Then I will go to my base to collect the colonists, then return here to retrieve her." He nodded. "If I don't comply, you can kill the asari. That would set me back tremendously."

"You have others. You would not return for this one."

Saren shook his head. "I do have other asari, but each has unique abilities. None of the others is as skilled in linking minds. Besides, what do you lose this way?" He dipped his head. "I get my information, and if I don't return, you get to keep the asari."

The Shiala-Thorian combo seemed to think about it. As far as Shiala knew, everything he'd said was true. The seed he'd planted prior to landing was germinating.

It nodded. "Very well."

* * *

When Saren returned to the ship, there was a message on his Omni-tool from one of his Citadel contacts: his assassins were dead.

He stabbed the tool's interface, determined to find why they failed.

The extranet was abuzz with news of the first human Spectre. A quick search brought up a low quality Omni-vid someone had leaked of the proceeding. Spectre appointments were classified, but that didn't stop some moron from secretly recording it from the Chambers upper balcony. Apparently they didn't realize everyone who entered the Tower was recorded and very few had access to the upper levels.

 _Perhaps one of my contacts can bring them in, find out what else they know about this proceeding,_ he mused as he pulled up it to his Omni-tool.

Saren watched the shaky inauguration vid with a growing rage, growling deep in his chest. His mandibles flared wide, baring his teeth at the damnable woman.

He hissed as a female quarian moved into the frame. _What did she find? There wasn't supposed to be any evidence!_

The vid hastily cut off near the end. The enterprising videographer was probably belatedly worried about being discovered by Tower Security.

Saren had seen enough.

He sat thoughtfully, shutting down the optic display.

If the Council appointed Shepard, the quarian had found evidence against him somehow and the humans had managed to get another hearing without him there. Putting the _how_ question aside, the Council would have revoked his Spectre status.

Saren felt a flare of rage return. He pushed it down. _There will be time for that later._

This vid was an oversight on the Council's part. That someone could make it at all was a clear indication Shepard had forced the Council's hand. They hadn't planned to appoint her. Security had no time to prepare, meaning her inauguration was a quick solution.

Saren had dealt with the Council long enough to know their ineptitude. They were awed by their own power, manipulating the idiotic masses into believing they were wiser than anyone else. They wouldn't advertise his expulsion from the Spectres because it would expose them as fools. They would order Shepard to bring him in quietly, keeping it undisclosed to the public. At least that was one good thing about their arrogance.

Saren stood and paced the bridge slowly. He clenched and unclenched his talons.

He was a well-known Spectre, so most wouldn't dare look too closely at his activities. The Council couldn't seize assets outside their jurisdiction. Even in Council space, he had shell accounts and no shortage of desperate contacts. Most of his resources were intact.

When he found Sovereign from the files he obtained on Camala, Saren knew he couldn't trust the Council with it. If he had told them about the Reapers, they wouldn't have believed it. And even if they did, they'd try to fight. The Council could never grasp such power. They would refuse to bow down to something greater than themselves and the Reapers would crush them all.

No, he couldn't allow that. The Reapers were capable of the complete annihilation of all organics. If they fought, the Reapers would fight back. Saren was sworn to protect the galaxy, even if it meant disobeying the idiots on Council.

Saren had prepared for this day, knowing a time may come when he couldn't operate freely.

Twenty-four years of Spectre service left him with more wealth than one person could ever need, and there wasn't much credits couldn't buy - one way or another. He'd invested his way into many corporations, bought their best and brightest for his own use.

He'd hoped to keep his Spectre status, though. Losing it was a hard blow, and to a human no less! Saren felt the rage gnawing at the edges of his mind. He'd been a Spectre almost as long as this human interloper had been alive.

But like Desolas had taught him, duty was the highest of virtues. Saren had _earned_ his status on his own merits, but he was no stranger to sacrifice. His status had been a valuable resource to furthering the cause, but it was only one of many resources. Ultimately, it too was disposable.

Of course, now that he was outed, he had to move fast.

First he walked to the geth terminal in the bridge. "Destroy the colony and kill every human on the planet. Go to ExoGeni's headquarters and copy all the data. Send it to me when you're done, then delete everything and destroy the building. Leave nothing behind."

He thought for a minute.

"Retrieve the asari if you can. She is in the Thorian's lair under Zhu's Hope. If you can't retrieve her alive, kill the plant and bring her body back to the base."

He plotted the course back to Virmire, then sat back on the bench. If they were sending this human after him, he wasn't going to make it easy for her. He opened his Omni-tool. It was time to make use of all those resources.

* * *

 **A.N.:** This was a tough chapter to write and I'm still not sure if I pulled off everything I tried to do. The 'interrogation' scene was rewritten probably four or five times. On the one hand, I don't want to write torture porn. On the other, Saren is more than willing to torture for information. The first version was violent in the extreme, but I figured it might be too over the top. The second version was neutered to the point where it lost believability, at least in my view. Hopefully I managed to get the right balance of violence and plot this time. Advice would be greatly appreciated on this one, since future chapters will definitely include comparable levels of violence.

The Thorian conversation was also hard. I almost didn't write it at all. My first version skipped it completely with just an acknowledgement that Saren had sacrificed Shiala. I told myself it'd be better to leave the specifics to the imagination, but that felt like I was cheating you guys and wimping out. I went back and added the scene, trying to figure out how Saren managed to get what he wanted without the whole colony attacking him.

I feel like a plant, even one as old and intelligent as the Thorian, wouldn't be very good at realizing when it's being manipulated. It's used to taking what it wants and having access to the minds of its thralls. It'd be impossible to manipulate if someone was already under its control. The Thorian also isn't very subtle. Even the densest Shepard realizes the colonists are acting weird, even if they don't know why. I wanted to show how manipulative Saren can be, but I worry it may just come across as I'm making it too easy for Saren as the author, instead of Saren just being that good. :/

As always, comments, critiques and reviews always welcome!


	4. De-Ciphered

4\. **De-Ciphered**

The ship touched down on the beach. Saren disembarked and ordered his geth to take the ship to dock.

He stepped back and watched it take off, blowing the white sand back as it rose. He stood, savoring the warm breeze. Virmire's salty ocean air was a pleasant contrast to the Thorian's rotten stench.

Virmire reminded him of Palaven, though he was not nostalgic for his old homeworld. Far from it, in fact. Since Desolas's death, he'd come to despise Palaven. Its leaders ignored his brother's sacrifice and the Council forced them to make nice to the humans. General Desolas Arterius, once considered a hero within the Hierarchy, was now forgotten by those who once lauded him.

 _And now the humans have a Spectre of their own._ Saren snarled. _Desolas would have hated that_.

Saren turned and marched along the empty beach towards his complex.

In any event, this planet had much less radiation and the locale was appealing enough to his specialists, a tropical paradise to reward their work.

Many enterprising colonials had tried to claim Virmire, only to invariably come under attack from the Terminus System's motley collection of criminals. Most people now avoided the planet, making it the perfect place to build a research complex.

Saren neared the doors, guarded by two geth trooper sentries. They opened the doors for him, but did not turn or otherwise acknowledge his approach. Saren strode into the cool, dim hallway, making his way to the elevator.

The geth had proved useful in the construction of his complex. An organic crew might have let something slip, accidentally or otherwise, but the geth worked quietly without drawing unwanted attention. _And they don't make demands. The perfect laborers._

He rode the elevator, thinking. The asari said the Cipher would take time to understand. The visions she'd given him were almost indistinguishable from the beacons' visions.

Hopefully the geth would retrieve her alive. Perhaps she would absorb even more of the Thorian's memory after prolonged close contact. He didn't want any more mistakes.

He entered Dr. Tanra's lab.

The mottled green-skinned salarian was talking to the new neuroscientist. The pitch of his voice rose as he gestured wildly at his console screen. The asari faced the salarian, nodding at whatever he had said.

Saren discovered Dr. Rana Thanoptis at the University of Armali on Thessia, working in their neural research labs. She'd written her doctoral dissertation about the possibility of using neural implants to modify behavior, specifically that of Ardat-Yakshi. Her writing had been roundly criticized and controversial, so the university buried her in the labs where she wouldn't cause a stir. It had been almost embarrassingly easy to pry her away.

He passed through without stopping, paying no attention to Tanra's rambling. There would be time to hear their indoctrination reports later.

Saren made his way up the Communication Tower, shifting impatiently in the elevator. He walked down the stairs of the comm. room to his real reason for building his base: a beacon, identical to its partner on Eden Prime.

He'd found this one first, his team dragging it up from the depths of Virmire's ocean. Unfortunately, the message had important parts missing, which was not surprising, given its age and location. There was no telling how saltwater might degrade its encoding. He'd been stymied until the humans had dug another one up. But even the both beacons together didn't clarify the message.

He approached it again, hoping that this time the Cipher would make sense of things.

The green ripples reached out and jerked Saren off the ground. He tensed before the visions slammed his mind.

 _Rapid fire flashes. A prayer. Light in the sky. Red. It sees! People running, terror. Metal on metal. It has me! Don't let it take me! Please don't- Blood, blood everywhere. It hurts! Teeth, screaming. Despair._ Despair. **Despair.** _It's tearing me apart! A blade comes down. Make it stop makeitstopMAKEITSTOP! A wall of sound. Total eclipse. A Reaper darkens the sky._

Saren hit the floor on his knees, gasping. His head throbbed. His arms quaked as he tried to lift himself from the ground so he stopped, laying on the cool floor while he tried to regain his bearings.

He still couldn't understand the message. Sovereign would not be pleased.

 _Sovereign._ Saren forced himself up, legs wobbling. He made his way up the ramp, slowly, where Sovereign's hologram was already waiting. He tamped down on his foreboding. Sovereign did not like displays of weakness.

"SAREN." The deep boom sliced through his mind. It lodged in his chest and buzzed in the back of his mind, right on the edge of pain. "DO YOU COMPREHEND THE MESSAGE?"

"No, Sovereign." Saren bowed his head in a show of submission, sub-harmonics vibrating apologetically. "There were new images this time, but I still could not make sense of them. The asari said the Prothean ancestral memories would take time to become clear."

"UNACCEPTABLE ORGANIC WEAKNESS." Sovereign glowed an angry red. "WE WILL NOT TOLERATE FAILURE."

The buzz in Saren's head became a roar that threatened to drown out his other senses.

"FIND ANOTHER WAY." The roar intensified into a tsunami of sound, pressing down, crushing his mind. It was all Saren could do to remain standing.

The hologram vanished and Saren exhaled a shaky breath, holding on the railing.

He closed his eyes, gathering his wits about him. The roar was gone, letting him think clearly, but his legs were still wobbling from the exertion.

Sovereign was not happy. Then again, it was _never_ happy, but that was only to be expected from a giant death-machine.

Saren rubbed his head. _That could have gone worse,_ he thought as he staggered to the elevator. By Sovereign's standards, that little display was the equivalent of a finger wag. Saren shuddered to think what it might do if he actually failed.

 _It could have gone better as well,_ he thought, bracing himself against the elevator wall. _Just how am I supposed to find another way?_

He exited the elevator and turned corner, headed to Dr. Tanra's indoctrination lab.

The door to the Communications Tower opened and Benezia entered. She looked up and Saren stopped, waiting for her to approach.

"Saren," Benezia said, stopping a few feet away. "You look troubled. Is there something I can do to assist?"

He waved an arm, dismissing her. "The Cipher did not decode the message."

"It did not work?" Benezia looked surprised. "Then how—"

"Silence," Saren snarled.

Benezia closed her mouth.

"If the beacons do not work, I _will_ find another way. I will find some way to understand the Protheans."

"If I may?" Benezia dipped her head. "My daughter, Liara ... she has always been fascinated by the Protheans." Benezia gave a proud little smile. "She has become quite the expert on them, even at such a young age. I am sure she would like to discover the fate of the Protheans for herself."

Saren considered this. _An asari Prothean expert ..._ She could see the Cipher from his mind. He could expose her to the beacon and force her to tell him what the Conduit is and how to use it.

Saren nodded. "Where is she?"

"I'm afraid that I do not know. I have not spoken to my daughter in many years, since she went off to university on Thessia." Benezia shook her head. "I know her digs cost a great deal and she has not asked me for credits in nearly forty years. She is likely getting the funding from university grants. Perhaps they would have a record there."

He brushed past her, headed to the lab. "Find her."

"Of course, Saren."

The door shut and he crossed the bridge deep in thought.

He would have Benezia find her daughter and any Prothean research the girl had done. Mothers were wont to brag about their offspring, but even if Benezia was exaggerating, he could probably still use her. And if his geth could not retrieve Shiala, he'd need a replacement asari anyway.

 _Plus, having her daughter on hand would be helpful if Benezia ever gets out of line._

The door opened on the far side of the wall and Saren strolled in.

"Oh, Agent Saren!" Dr. Tanra practically bounced up to him, a smile on his face. "Pleasure, pleasure to see you! Have you come about the reports?"

"Yes, Doctor." Saren nodded briskly. "But first, how is our new specialist?"

"Ah, yes!" Tanra's under lids flickered with excitement. "Rana's studies of species-specific neural structures are very interesting. Her theories about plasticity and mental encoding are absolutely riveting. I think we will work well together."

"Glad to hear it." Saren turned to the beaming neuro-specialist, an asari with black, dotted facial tattoos above her eyes and stripes on her crest. Saren smiled welcomingly. "How are you settling in, Ms. Thanoptis?"

"Very well, thank you." She smiled. "Your labs are so nice and open, with such a beautiful view. It's very different from the stuffy ones I've worked in."

"Of course," Saren purred. "I provide the best for my people. If there's anything you need to settle in—"

The asari gave a little laugh. "I've never had such easy access to cutting-edge resources in my life. I don't think I could ask for more."

"Well, if you do think of anything, let me know." Saren smiled. "I want everyone working at their highest potential and will spare no expense to give you what you need to do it."

"Agent Saren is very generous." Tanra nodded emphatically. "He provides everything I ask for."

"That is very kind of you to say, Doctor." Saren tipped his head in false modesty. "Now, how about those reports?"

"Come this way." Tanra scurried over to the console.

Saren followed at a leisurely pace. On the screen was a Reaper artifact, isolated in one of the lower labs. It was almost identical to the one Desolas had found under Temple Palaven.

"See this here?" Tanra pointed to a string of fluctuating numbers in the lower left-hand screen.

"Yes." Saren tilted his head. The numbers appeared to correspond to the graph in the lower right corner, which was shifting in an oscillating pattern. "It looks like it's pulsing."

"Yes!" Tanra smiled and bounced on his toes. "Exactly!"

Saren waited for a minute. When no explanation was forthcoming, he sighed. "And this is important why, Doctor?"

"This monitor measures changes in electromagnetic fields," he said quickly, seeing the look on Saren's face. "This artifact is generating a weak electromagnetic pulse. Then, this here," Tanra said, shifting the screen's view and pointing to a new set of numbers, "measures sound frequencies. As you can see, it peaks on either end of the spectrum with a gap in the middle."

Saren shook his head. _Salarians._ "I'm a soldier, Doctor, not a scientist. Explain it simply, please."

"Well," Tanra said, tapping his chin. "It means that your artifact is generating EM fields, pulses and creating infra- and ultrasounds. No audible sounds at all."

"Both infrasound and ultrasound have complex effects on organic minds," Rana piped up from across the room. Saren turned, focusing his attention on her. "Uh, they can cause people to feel certain emotions and strange sensations," she said, nervous now that he was looking at her.

He gave her a smile. That seemed to encourage her, so she continued.

"Those kinds of sounds can cause all sorts of phenomenon in the brain. According to those graphs," she nodded to the console, "the sounds peak well outside the hearing range of any organic, but they only emit those sounds when organics are present."

"Really?"

"Yes!" Tanra nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly what I was saying. And those EM fields, look!" He pointed to the screen, now showing transformed colonists in the room with the artifact. They appeared to be standing near it, motionless.

Saren watched for a moment.

"And?" He looked at the salarian, starting to wonder if he had made a mistake in choosing him. He was a brilliant scientist, but his communication skills were lacking.

"Your organic-synthetic prototypes are just standing there, near the artifact." Tanra gestured. "They appear docile when near the artifact's EM pulses. Comparatively ..." The salarian changed the screen to a different group of colonists. "These ones are active, with no pulses."

"You're saying these pulses cause them to stop moving?" Saren eyed the screen at the transformed colonists shuffling around the edges of their holding cell. The room couldn't be opened from the inside, but it looked like they were trying to find a way out.

"Correlation does not equal causation." The salarian held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Without more data, I can't say. I need to do more tests."

Saren stepped away from the salarian. "Very well, Doctor."

Truthfully, he'd already expected this bit of news. The exposed turians on Palaven all those years ago acted similarly. They seemed mindless and slavishly devoted to their artifact. There seemed to be no real difference between species.

He turned to the asari. "I appreciate your clarifications, Miss Thanoptis." She blushed a light lavender and Saren smiled. _She will be easy to manipulate when the time comes._ "I believe you will be a valuable member of our team."

He nodded to her, then headed to the door. He stepped out into the sunshine.

The asari was young for her species, barely out of her maiden years. She seemed to have a bit of an infatuation with him. _Probably some misguided sentimental fantasy of rescue._

Saren smirked, headed toward the security room to check on the status of his Omega contact. _It will be easy enough to find out._

It wasn't the first time he'd attracted an asari. They liked to pretend they were above other species; wise, powerful and immune to petty manipulation. Saren knew better. Asari were just as easy to fool as any other species if you knew their weaknesses, maybe even more so. Their arrogance convinced them that they were unable to be taken in by a mere turian.

Power and wealth were two qualities that made him desirable to the blue species. While not one of his preferred methods, he wasn't above using sex appeal to get what he wanted. The young ones were especially susceptible to charm and flattery.

Not that he found the asari attractive. Unlike the apparent majority of the galaxy, he'd never seen the appeal of having a blue wench poke around in his brain. Their curves and fleshy bodies repelled him, as did their whorish attitude. Women of any species tended to be weak and manipulative, but the asari were the worst of a bad lot.

Even so, they had their uses. Saren was an efficient manager of resources. The mission was too important to fail because of personal distaste. He would do what he needed to keep everything running smoothly.

* * *

 **A.N.:** Short chapter this time around. The next one will also be fairly short. Also, the chapter title was supposed to be a placeholder but it made me laugh, so I went with it.

My goal with writing Saren is to make him a plausibly awful villain-protagonist. He's such a jerk, but he's a _complex_ jerk. One place I think ME1 really fell down on was that they built Saren up as this racist, ruthless, pragmatic bastard and then never really delivered on that. By the end of this series, I want people to see Saren as one seriously twisted mofo, but also a tragic one. If you don't hate him sometimes, I've failed as a writer.

That said, racism is an insidious thing. Most racists don't content themselves with hating only _one_ out-group. If Saren is racist against humans, he should also be at least somewhat racist to every other race too. And given that the asari are basically an all female race, I'd also think Saren would also have to be at least somewhat misogynistic too. But really, I'm pretty sure Saren just hates everyone to a greater or lesser degree. I intend to delve into that mindset and maybe (to a degree) how he got there. It's gonna be icky.


	5. Doctors in the Rough

**5\. Doctors in the Rough**

Saren leaned against the wall at a dead end between two buildings, watching from the dark. Omega's citizens scuttled by like insects in their filthy hive, throwing skittish glances at the twin pinpoints of light tracking their movements from the gloom. Even Omega's normally brash criminals nervously skirted past the alley, avoiding the predator lurking within.

A krogan rounded the corner, alone.

Saren straightened with a pistol in his hand. "Terr," he said by way of greeting.

"Saren," the gravelly voice replied. The krogan stopped a few paces away, his silhouette a black lump against the dim light.

His cybernetics allowed him to see the krogan's eyes darting about and the edge of the knife glinting in his hand. Saren smirked.

The alley stank of blood, feces and organic rot, but the darkness was solid to organic eyes. Saren had taken a calculated risk entering Omega without his armor, but the black clothes he wore made him part of that darkness. Terr couldn't see a thing.

"Where is Droyas?" Saren kept his voice level and his finger on the trigger.

"He's on the station." The krogan merc shrugged uncomfortably, eyes shifting as if looking for an attacker. "There's an asari with him. His bondmate." The krogan spat. "Says he won't go without her."

Saren scowled. _Another asari._ "What do you know about her?"

"Not much," the krogan admitted. "Her name is Jelina Rouni. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine." He shook his head. "He says she's some kind of scientist too, but I couldn't find much about her. Whatever she's been up to, she's been quiet for the last several hundred years. Droyas said her skills had something to do with cybernetics. He also said to give you this."

Saren readied his weapon.

The krogan rummaged in a pocket pulled out an OSD. He activated its haptic interface. The soft glow illuminated them both enough for the krogan to toss it to him.

"What's this?" Saren examined it with a frown. The krogan was supposed to lead Droyas to him. This wasn't part of the plan.

The merc shrugged again. "Hell if I know. Droyas told me to give it to you, so I did."

"And the other job I asked you to do?" Saren asked, swallowing the disc's light with his fist.

"The Blue Suns have taken the bait. My job is done."

Saren dismissed him with a grunt and the krogan walked off. Saren waited for him to leave before activating the OSD. There was a vid file, a document and a set of coordinates.

He played the message first, keeping the volume down low. Aria had spies all over the station. Saren didn't want her involved.

"Greetings, Spectre Agent Arterius!" A red-plated krogan with gold eyes stared out at him from the interface, smiling.

Saren frowned.

"I apologize for deceiving you like this, but I knew your escort had orders to bring me alone. Allow me to introduce you to my lovely bondmate, Jelina."

The screen jerked away from the krogan, settling on a blue-eyed asari with orange arrow-shaped markings on her crest and sides of her face, an orange chin stripe, orange paint around her eyes and purple lips. Saren found the orange a rather garish contrast against her blue skin. Not that he had a particularly refined sense of aesthetics, but it was better than the krogan's if he found her _lovely_.

The asari waved at the camera. "Hello, Spectre."

"She too is a brilliant scientist, with a keen mind and quick hand," the krogan said from off-screen. The asari shot a fond smile at the camera before it cut back to Droyas.

"Your proposition sounds enticing, but I cannot leave her behind. She assists me in my work and we are a capable team. If you are willing to include her in this potential deal, then I would be glad to hear you out."

The krogan smiled, showing an entirely unpleasant display of flat teeth. "The attached document has our contact information. The coordinates are the location we will meet you at if you agree to accept us both. We both look forward to working with you."

Saren shook his head. It was presumptuous, but he had to give the krogan credit for pulling his advantage. Most krogan negotiated by gunpoint. Apparently this one was smart enough to know better. _If that's how he intends to play it, I can work with that._

He looked up the coordinates on his Omni-tool. It pinged back a location— a seedy looking bar in one of Omega's residential districts. It catered to dextro and levo species.

Saren snorted. _How thoughtful._

Even so, he was never one to trust things to others. Holstering his pistol, he disappeared into the maze of Omega's back-alleys.

* * *

Saren stood on the rooftop of the building adjacent to the bar.

It was exactly as advertised: uninteresting and almost conspicuously unremarkable. It was rundown enough that most patrons would keep to themselves but still be on the lookout. If he started a scene, Aria would know about it before he got off the station.

Saren had to grudgingly admit that it was a smart move on the krogan's part, even if it complicated his own plans.

He fired off a quick message to the krogan, accepting his terms. Letting the asari come along was a small concession to make, and the potential benefits outweighed the potential costs. If she was a good scientist, he gained an additional worker. The communications jammers were online at the base, so there was little risk of exposure once she was on the planet. Even if she wasn't helpful, she could be useful if he needed leverage.

His Omni-tool pinged with a response a few minutes later, happily pledging their support.

Saren smiled viciously. _Now we do things on my terms._

He waited until the pair arrived and watched them enter the bar.

They were both wearing civilian clothes, the krogan in a brown jumpsuit and his asari wearing a shiny, tacky purple dress, looking like some common whore on the krogan's arm. No weapons that he could see from above, though the asari had biotics of unknown power and any krogan could be dangerous at close range. Still, from looks alone, no one would ever assume they were scientists.

Saren waited a few minutes before heading down.

* * *

The bar was tepid and dirty, much like Omega itself. It also seemed to share Omega's fear of being well-lit.

 _Of course,_ Saren thought, _the owner probably thinks hiding the blood stains makes him high-class._

The krogan and his bondmate were sitting in the corner, across from the entrance. The asari was perched on the krogan's lap, stroking the side of his face.

Saren swallowed his disgust and stalked over, giving a glance around at the other sentient trash in the room. It was as he suspected, but there were no obvious spies he could see. _At least the krogan is smart enough to take a table away from the others._

He slid into a seat in the booth across from them. He waved away the asari waitress starting to sashay towards their table, and turned his attention to the krogan.

"Glad you could make it, Agent Saren," the krogan said with amusement. "We started to wonder if you were coming."

Saren gave him a manufactured smile. "I appreciate your concern, Doctor." He gestured to himself. "I needed to change into something less bulky than armor, so as not to frighten the locals."

The krogan rumbled with a quiet laugh. "Yes, that would be unfortunate."

"I apologize for my mate's rudeness." The asari gave him a simpering smile. "I told him this was not the best way to make a good impression."

Saren inclined his head as if he accepted the apology. "I would have been surprised if he agreed to come along without wanting to make some kind of deal," he said, sub-harmonics flanging with reassurance. _That much is true, in any case._

"Yes, about that," the krogan said, tilting his head slightly. "There were a few points I was wondering if you could clarify."

"I'm certain by the end of this meeting, you will have the answers you're wanting," Saren said, maintaining his polite façade. "But first, let me ask you a question. What do _you_ think I'm asking for?"

"Considering that you've asked for me," the krogan said, "I have to assume you're interested in the genophage." Droyas tilted his head to the side, looking at him with one eye. "The real question is 'why' you're interested in the genophage. I must admit, I have not figured out the answer."

"I'm looking for a cure." He'd let the krogan draw his own assumptions.

The asari's eyes went wide. "That's surprising, given your species' feelings toward each other."

The krogan watched him, gold eyes both interested and wary.

"That is true." Saren nodded to her. "Our species have a long standing hostility. However." He looked at the krogan. "I believe it is time to put away our grievances. Consider this my token of goodwill."

"A curious statement, Agent Saren." Droyas frowned and straighten his head on his shoulders.

Saren smiled. "You were once an associate of Warlord Okeer, were you not?"

The krogan shifted. He placed both hands down on the table and leaned forward ever so slightly. It was a restrained show of aggression.

 _Typical of a krogan,_ Saren throught, refusing to show any response. Krogan never liked to explain themselves, but would back down quickly if they felt their opponent had the upper hand. The krogan was no threat. This was nothing more than posturing. A truly dangerous krogan didn't waste time with posturing.

Saren could almost see the krogan deflate when he remained unmoved.

"That was a long time ago," Droyas said, slumping back in the booth. "I was young enough not to know any better."

"Oh?" Saren asked, sub-harmonics vibrating with apparent interest.

He could easily imagine why Droyas would want to downplay any connection. Okeer was a rusty, incompetent relic of primitive krogan culture, hated by his own people and everyone else. Rubbing Droyas's face in it would throw him off balance and make him easier to steer.

Droyas looked extremely uncomfortable now, his head swinging slightly from side to side. "Okeer approached me with promises of restoring the glory of our people. He spoke eloquently of showing the galaxy that we were far more than mindless brutes or fodder for their wars."

The krogan lowered his head, showing his crest defensively. "I admit that in those days, such a sentiment appealed to me. However, it grew increasingly obvious to me that he did not intend to cure the genophage. Instead, he merely wished to engineer soldiers like some salarian. We parted ways soon after."

"The Warlord is fixated on the past," the asari said, stroking Droyas's jaw soothingly. "He wishes a return to the days of the Rebellions, with superior troops who cannot be crippled by the salarians' wiles. That is not what we wish."

"Indeed." The krogan nodded. "Those days are gone for good, as they should be. We should be looking to the future, not repeating the mistakes of the past. "

 _Really, now?_ Saren thought with vicious satisfaction. _Well, then ...  
_

"I'm pleased to hear that," he said, sub-harmonics rumbling with unfeigned pleasure, though perhaps not for the reasons they would assume. "I, too, am looking at the future." Saren flared his mandibles reassuringly at the pair. "As to your previous association, Doctor, I think I can overlook it. We cannot allow the mistakes of the past to interfere with our plans."

"We are very interested in hearing about your plans," the asari said, purple lips curling at the edges. "You certainly have our attention, Spectre."

"Please," Saren said with a gracious dip of his head. "Call me Saren."

"Very well, Saren," the asari replied with a slight laugh. "What did you have in mind?"

Saren smiled.

* * *

Saren made his way to the dock, walking around a man lying sprawled out in the middle of the walkway. The man wheezed and blindly groped out at him as he passed.

He cocked his head, studying the shivering man huddled in a dirty rag of fabric. He couldn't see the man's face or features, but the head shape ... _Batarian by the looks of it,_ Saren thought.

The Blue Suns barricade was nearby and this was the Suns' turf. _A red sand addict, no doubt._ There was a chance that if the Suns' offered a reward, the addict would remember him coming by and be desperate enough for another hit to report it. Saren couldn't allow that.

The batarian moaned pitifully in the grip of his withdrawal. A gunshot would draw unwanted attention, even on Omega.

 _Only one choice, then._ Saren gathered his biotics around him.

He waited until he had enough force gathered before unleashing the force directly at the man's head, snapping his elongated neck instantly. The body slumped over against the wall.

 _I probably did the poor wretch a favor._ He looked down at the stilled body, still concealed within the blanket. _That's probably the best thing to ever happen to him._

Saren turned and walked away, not sparing so much as another glance for one of the station's many destitute. Omega chewed up the unwary and ate their bones. No one would ever know what happened to him. No one would care.

A ramshackle crew of Blue Suns mercenaries loitered at the barricade to the docks, styling themselves as private security. Saren had been to Omega enough times to know a racket when he saw it. The Blue Suns liked to "guard" docked ships, for a "fee". Anyone who couldn't pay had their ship seized as collateral.

The current crew was a mix of two barefaced turians, a human and three batarians. Not one of them was wearing a helmet.

 _Idiots._ Saren sneered.

Few things disgusted him more than seeing turians and humans working together. Adding batarians into the mix only made things viler.

He activated his Omni-tool. Terr's virus was ravaging their network. _Good._

It was worming its way through the Blue Suns security feeds, deleting all vids from the last day cycle. If it got through those, it would move on to other parts of their network, dealing them a rather severe blow and obscuring his true motivations.

Saren knew enough about the inner workings of the Blue Suns to know they never manned their security feeds. It was just for use after the fact, whether for retribution or extortion. He knew about their little agreement with Aria, too.

He wasn't worried about Omega's pirate queen, but he wasn't going to play with her today. Aria T'Loak thought she held the station in an iron grip, but there were plenty of places where her hold was tenuous. Saren had no plan to return to Omega, but he couldn't rule it out. There was no reason to give her any ammunition.

He followed by shutting down their comms remotely, ensuring they wouldn't be able to call for back-up. All he needed to do now was wipe the log of ships docked at this port. But first he needed to deal with the mercenaries guarding it.

The Blue Suns snapped to attention as he approached. He had to give them credit for that, at least. They had some modicum of self-preservation.

Saren's ship was docked just past the Sun's barricade. He wasn't worried, though. Even this kind of mercenary trash wasn't stupid enough to tamper with a Spectre's ship. That wouldn't stop him from running his usual scans, of course. Paranoia was a survival skill in his profession, one he kept highly cultivated.

"I'm afraid we'll need to see some ID," a batarian said, walking over with an exaggerated swagger.

Saren decided he'd given them too much credit in thinking they had a modicum of self-preservation.

"You've been paid for your time, _batarian._ " He turned to the batarian, sparing him an icy look. "I'm getting on my ship. What you decide to do is none of my concern." He turned away, keeping the batarian in his peripheral vision.

The batarian bristled. "I think we're going to need a scan."

Getting into a fight with the Blue Suns armed only with a pistol and no armor was less than ideal. There were other alternatives than a frontal assault. _Still,_ Saren thought, _at least killing them will be adequate stress relief._ Normally he wouldn't bother with such scum, but these weeks of watching his every step was starting to chafe his plates.

The human had a Vindicator assault rifle, with dangerous burst-fire compared to the batarians' crap rifles. The turians were only armed with shotguns, not effective at range. The batarians were basic troopers, no shields worth mentioning.

Saren flicked his mandible in annoyance. _I'll kill this batarian first, then the human._

"Very well," he said, turning. "If that's how you want to proceed."

The batarian sneered and raised his Omni-tool.

He slowly stepped forward, gathering his biotics to prepare for a biotic barrier. He stopped in front of him, fists clenched at his sides.

The batarian, taking it for a show of impotent anger, glanced down to activate the scan.

Saren punched the batarian full force with his prosthetic left arm, drawing his pistol as the merc crumpled. He shot the human while the other mercs scrambled for their weapons, and activated his biotic barrier.

The mercs dove for cover behind the barricade.

One of the batarians popped up and sent a wild spray of assault rifle fire at him. The biotic barrier absorbed the stray shots.

He sent a tech mine at the batarians, sabotaging their weapons. He followed it with an incendiary grenade and dipped behind a crate.

The batarians ran out of cover, screaming, armor ablaze.

Saren's cybernetics allowed him to optimize his aim. Two shots and they were down.

The turians broke around the ends of the barricade, trying for a pincer attack.

He scoffed, concentrating his biotics and throwing a wave of energy at one. The wave caught one turian and sent him flying over the edge of the dock, screaming as he plunged into Omega's depths.

Saren turned as the other turian dove for cover. He and grabbed him with his biotics, lifting him up into the air. He shot the hapless merc as he hung defenseless, then carelessly dropped the body over the edge.

 _Amateurs._ He holstered his pistol. Not terribly surprising, though. Omega wasn't known for breeding intelligent criminals.

He activated the terminal, opening the barricade and planting a worm that would corrupt the ship logs, void out all payments received and wipe the console.

It was petty, but there was something satisfying about denying the mercenaries credits. Not to mention that the Blue Suns were stupid enough that a string of idiots would undoubtedly get their Omni-tools wiped before they realized what was happening.

Saren smirked. That was an extra incentive.

He left the barricade open and returned to his ship.

* * *

After doing his standard security check, he sent a message to Benezia to divert a contingent of commandos with one of his krogan mercs to pick up Droyas and the asari. He'd given them some coordinates near the Perseus Veil, out away from Omega.

He'd have his people pick up Droyas and his asari to bring them to the base. They'd dispose of Droyas's ship, after retrieving anything useful. Not that Droyas would know. Neither of them would know a thing.

Saren smiled. Now things were going as they should.

* * *

 **A.N.:** I'm still working on this story! Life's been crazy lately, but it's not dead. This is sort of an interlude chapter but there's a point to it, honest.

Action scenes are still the bane of my writing existence. One day I will figure out how to write a decent one.


End file.
